


tunnel vision

by demios



Category: End Roll (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demios/pseuds/demios
Summary: Tabasa has a habit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It says Tabasa is a scaredy-cat but it always looks like he’s lowkey astral projecting in his sprites so what is the truth??

The first time Russell asks about it is the day he arrives.

“I can tell you all sorts of stuff, so don't hesitate to ask a thing.” Tabasa tells him after introducing himself. He can tell the kid all sorts of tidbits about animal care, but he’ll do his best about town stuff too. That’s the responsible thing to do, right? Tabasa gives him a light smile in hopes of clearing what anxiety Russell might have; he knows suddenly moving to a new place can be kind of rough.

Instead, Russell looks at him like he’s got another head, which makes him shift his weight on one foot.

The words don’t actually leave the kid’s mouth, but his deadened eyes say it all: “Why is this weirdo wearing a hood indoors? Shady.”

The reason behind it is simple: He can’t focus.

After nearly losing one of the sheep earlier this morning, he went through the trouble of constructing a makeshift partition to prevent them from wandering into town. That should have been the end of it, but… as he’s tending to the other animals, his brain replays the scene again. And again. And again.

( _What if the sheep escape again? What if they get into town- no, Dozing Forest? What’s conjured is a sickening scene of white fleece and scarlet, crumpled bodies and unblinking eyes, and it’s his fault-_ )

So, the hood went up. Over his ears, over his head. The comfort of the thick material of his jacket is felt almost immediately.

Like this, it’s always easier to focus on the documents on his desk instead of the slurry of apprehension that fills his mind. Anything in his periphery is promptly muffled, including the thoughts that threaten to intrude. Deep breaths. Like he’s almost functioning normally. Sorry, Gardenia. Your hair ornament will have to wait. One thing at a time.

But Tabasa’s been asked the question enough to respond with a simple word and nervous gesture. “Sorry,” he says, hands moving to pull down the fabric covering his head. “Kinda a habit. Forget to take it off sometimes.” A lot.

Russell watches. It makes Tabasa’s fingers twitch, the desire to put the fabric back up already surfacing in his mind despite putting it down just moments before.

Then, the boy speaks, voice disinterested in what distress he’s inadvertently caused the breeder. “Okay.” Russell doesn’t say anything further, turning his attention to the animals in the cages.

Tabasa takes that to mean that he doesn’t care. Truthfully, he’s not sure if that’s better or worse than the usual reaction (a look of concern, like Tabasa had just said something pitiful), but he accepts it.

-

The second time Russell notices, they’re in a rundown house that was somehow below one of the trees in Dozing Forest.

Tabasa didn’t even know there was something like this in Dozing Forest, which is impressive considering how many times he’s made trips out there. Did he just not see it? Maybe he’s less aware of his surroundings than he realized.

Well, maybe not. He’s far too aware of the unsettling atmosphere in this house, even if they’re resting in a safe area. His back is leaning against one of the aged walls, the mustiness of the house making him periodically scrunch his nose. That’s not the worst of it, either. Creaking floorboards, blood stains, and creepy monsters… it’s a little too strong for him to handle.

Fingers with a slight unsteadiness fiddle with the ornament in his hair, repeatedly traveling down the woven ribbon and over the beads. Two beads, one blue, then one green. Blue, green. Blue, green. No monsters. No creepy house. Just the ornament in his hair and two beads.

A quiet voice shakes him out of the motion and Russell comes into his field of vision. “Are you okay?” It sounds like a bored formality more than anything. After all, he asked Gardenia the same question as she impatiently swung her feet off one of the rickety chairs.

He offers an uneasy chuckle before replying. “I guess. I mean, it's a pretty big house, huh... You could get lost on your own. These monsters are tough, too.” It strikes him a moment too late that’s probably not what the kid wants to hear. It’s impolite, it’s weird, he knows. He’s an adult, so he should be dependable. But the growing anxiety seeps into his thoughts, as much as he tries to filter it out. Even the image of Russell is getting a little hard to focus on when those dull eyes are boring holes into him.

The anxiety speaks for him again in an attempt to relieve the silence that creeps between them. “If you do get lost, I'm not gonna look for you, sorry… So definitely don't get separated...” Damn it. Why did he say that?

“I’ll make sure not to.” Russell doesn’t show any other reaction after digesting the clumsy string of words and turns away.

The hood goes up, and Tabasa grips his musket tighter and vows not to embarrass himself when they set out again.

Gardenia fills in the lack of conversation just fine. Russell doesn’t talk to him for the rest of the day.

-

Time passes. Tabasa has another dream about the monster in Dozing Forest, only it’s not a monster anymore. It’s a monkey that nudges his hand and eats out of his palm, its fur warm and soft. Something that he wasn’t supposed to kill.

Tabasa wakes up with heavy weight in his chest. He’s not sure what to do with it, until it blooms into petals of indigo in his arms. Granted, they’re a bit wrinkled, but that’s fine with him. Can’t knock generosity.

He and Russell are walking through Dozing Forest again after a trip to Darcover, Tabasa still mildly surprised the boy decided to indulge his request. Not that Tabasa isn’t grateful for the company, but… kids were supposed to want to play outside, not help make graves.

“You practically snuck up on me today. Are you trying to be a ninja?” Tabasa laughs lightly as he cradles the funeral flowers. It probably doesn’t make for the best impression, but he can’t think of anything to talk about as Russell walks silently beside him.

A glint of emotion flickers through the boy’s eyes for a fraction of a second, and Tabasa isn’t sure what to make of it. (If he didn’t know better, he’d say the kid looked a bit guilty. Then again, he doesn’t know better, since he’s only known Russell for a couple days.)

Russell doesn’t answer, instead asking a question of his own in that muted voice of his. “Tabasa, are you scared of me?”

The question makes him stiffen. “Well, I’m scared of practically everything…” He hopes Russell doesn’t have some kind of prank in store for him, because he wouldn’t want the flowers to get crushed.

“But are you scared of me?” Ah… did he make Russell think that?

“No...” Tabasa clears his throat, unsatisfied with his own halfhearted answer. “No, of course not. You’re the least scary person I know, even less scary than Gardenia.” Mostly because Russell doesn't go out of his way to put caterpillars in his hood. The memory of something crawling up his neck sends a shudder down his spine.

Russell doesn’t seem to believe him.

“Though… I guess I’m scared of all the monsters we’ve been fighting lately.”  Tabasa concedes. He’s always been weak around too much commotion, too much clamor. The sudden appearance of monsters disrupting his otherwise peaceful life is troublesome, putting it lightly. “But I’ll tough it out, so no worries.” He quickly adds.

“And the hood helps.” Wow. Perceptive kid.

“Er… yeah.” Tabasa’s eyes cast down towards the haphazard bouquet in his arms. Suddenly, the wilted flowers are the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. “I’ve… never been good at taking in too much at once. My aim’s better with it on, too.” Sensory overload, he remembers the term being coined by Kantera. A natural reaction to overstimulation. (But no one else seems to have the same problem, Tabasa wanted to say.)

“Okay.” It feels like an eternity before Russell says that one word. Tabasa doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath until a shallow exhale leaves him. He’s waiting for his chance to laugh off what insult or confused look Russell might have for him, except- Wait, what?

“Okay?” Tabasa parrots dumbly, eyebrows arched as his head turns to look at Russell.

The kid nods, looking up at him with that infamous blank look of his. Tabasa, not for the first time, tries to fathom what could possibly be going through his head, but it seems that won’t be necessary this time. “I think I understand what you mean. So… I don’t mind if you keep it on.”

Russell’s gaze then settles on a patch of dirt at his feet. “It’s here, isn’t it? Where we fought the monster.”

Oh, right. The flowers drop from his arms to the ground, and it feels like something heavier has fallen with them.

-

Truthfully, Tabasa’s not any good at fighting monsters, and less at monsters that look like little animals. Sure, his aim is impeccable, but he’d rather not use it on creatures that look like they should be under his care. Still, a monster is a monster, and he’s not going to let Russell down.

That’s what he tells himself as they trudge through this new dungeon, but his will is waning fast. The smell of the place makes him nauseous, a cavern saturated only by the scent of blood. His head spins, not unlike that distressed Incarner. Urgh. He might have to sit this one out after all. Despite his best efforts, he’s lagging behind the rest of the group, legs feeling like lead. (And wasn’t he supposed to be the one quick on his feet? So much for that speed stat.)

He doesn’t want to be left behind, but he doesn’t want to see any more of the area. It’s a little pathetic, but he can’t help it. He can feel Russell’s gaze on him, observing him as they wade through murky water tinged scarlet. He’d rather not think about what’s made them that color. Or that it smells too much like rust. He needs to think of something else, but everything is in shades of white or red.

Russell’s words echo in his head again, and the funeral flowers fall.

Fingers travel upwards and trace over the fabric of his hood, then tentatively pull it over his head. The desire to upheave the contents of his stomach is still prevalent, but at least he doesn’t have to look at the small corpses littering the ground. His line of sight is directed at his feet, and while it isn’t the most efficient way to walk, it’s more bearable than before. He can pretend the stains that everyone leaves behind are strawberry jam, or something. Really rancid strawberry jam.

The floor shifts slightly beneath him with each step, but it’s alright. He can feel Russell’s hand snake around his wrist and guide him along until they're out. It’s warm.

-

“Kinda feels like we’re watching the end of the world, doesn’t it?” Tabasa is standing outside watching the herd again, a little more than apprehensive considering the recent developments. The signs in town have been distorted and everyone’s mailboxes corroded, but it’s not as bad as some of the other towns. He can live with gibberish outside his house if it means his animals are safe.

Russell hums, a noncommittal noise. Maybe that wasn’t the best conversation starter, but you can’t exactly blame him. One hand tugs absently at the hem of his hood as he watches one of the sheep succumb to erratic movements. They’ve been like this for a while now, and nothing Tabasa does can alleviate their jerky limbs and rolling eyes. He swallows, choking down the bitter anxiety as he watches Russell sift through his inventory.

Pills won’t work, neither will capsules or any medicine, Tabasa nearly says. He should know, since he tried them all earlier when he first noticed their health declining. That’s not what Russell’s looking for, though.

Russell doesn’t like wearing the rabbit poncho. That’s the impression Tabasa gets, anyways. He thinks it’s because the one time the kid decided to try it on, Gardenia started fawning over him.

“You’re so cute!” She giggled, pulling at the oversized ears attached to the hood. That probably wasn’t the image he was trying to go for.

But today, he pulls it out and slips it over his shirt and vest, the white cotton covering his upper body. Tabasa almost wants to comment on his cuteness too, but restrains himself.

Russell pulls the hood over his head without a word, then meeting Tabasa’s gaze. The older thinks he really looks like a rabbit. It’s a little funny. “Now we match.” He says quietly.

Tabasa smiles. “Yeah, we do.”


End file.
